


Story in bits and pieces

by Anonymous



Category: Megadeth
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, flavoured with a bit of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2020-12-24 05:50:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21094433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Pining Marty and oblivious Nick.





	1. Comfort

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dum_dum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dum_dum/gifts).

It’s winter, the middle of it, when the snow is becoming more of a vicious villain than a dreamy friend. The cold stopped playfully pinching cheeks and started biting like a feral dog. The frigid air makes you hide in the safety of a wooly scarf, risking pneumonia from breathing wet but warm air rather than freezing your nose off. 

Marty, for once, thanks God for the winter’s assault. He burrows himself into a stolen blanket and wiggles trying to find the most comfortable position to try and unfreeze. 

He wanted to discuss some music ideas and, instead of calling Nick like a normal person, he decided to visit him. He took his keys and jumped into the car, which broke down an hour before reaching Nick’s home. Marty decided to march the remaining distance and almost keeled over on the way.

Nick upon seeing him couldn’t decide if he should berate Marty or dunk him into a bathtub full of piping hot water. Thankfully, he settled on calling him a moron a few times and shoving his half-frozen ass into his living room.

Now, he’s sitting in Nick’s house radiating satisfaction at being mothered by a very disgruntled Nick and tries to regain feeling in his toes. Marty knows he acts like an idiot, but he can’t help it. Nick’s fussing makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside, so a couple of frozen toes seem like a good enough price.

The clinking coming from the kitchen brings a goofy smile to his face and a flutter of thousands of butterflies echoes in his stomach. 

Despite everything, they are still there, lively as ever and he wonders if they will ever die. If there will come a day when, upon seeing Nick, instead of a gentle flutter there will be cold nothing. 

There is a small part of him awaiting this. A tiny, tired fraction of his being yearns for the butterflies to stop bumping into his heart, to stop bouncing off of his ribs. It was fun and exciting at first. Now it’s wearing him down. It constantly reminds him that the butterflies are just a parasite of a lonely soul.

‘Look at you, a Megadeth grub!’ Nick roars with laughter, coming into the room, two steaming mugs in his hands. ‘What’s gonna become of you?’ He smiles brilliantly and Marty feels warm. 

‘Watch out for the news. An American Mothra! And no Godzilla in sight. Imma be thriving.’ He shots back and takes the offered mug. A strong scent of rum tickles his nose and Marty takes a sip to confirm it, immediately burning himself. 

‘Yeah, you’ll grow so fat the army will only need to smack you with a huge-ass flyswatter.’ Nick earns a kick to the thigh and he barely avoids spilling his tea. He swears and swats at Marty’s retreating leg. 

‘I’ll squoosh you first you blanket-grub. You wanna waste rum? MY rum?’ Nick sniffs indignantly and Marty smiles at him, no trace of humility in sight. 

‘So what, Godzilla?’ He asks innocently and Nick stands up grumbling about ungrateful insects and searches for the movie in his VHS collection. He puts the cassette into the player and comes back with a wide grin, then sits on the opposite side of the sofa. 

When Godzilla starts Marty sinks into the sofa, basking in the closeness of his friend. He laughs loudly when he realizes Nick chose Godzilla vs. Mothra.

An hour into the movie he looks at Nick for a moment and watches him watch the movie. He sits there with eyes wide open and mouth agape, clutching his mug in both hands. So lost in the fictional story he doesn’t see anything else.

The butterflies in Marty's stomach dance thrilled at the chance to sit there and Marty lets them. For now, it’s enough. The space between them feels cold but Marty deftly ignores it.

It’s fine. 

It’s good. 

Nick’s company still brings comfort.

The flutter of wings echoes in Marty’s soul.


	2. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are moments that make his heart swell with joy, but they are chased away by those that make it break. It is an ongoing dance that has no end.

They are still coming down from the adrenaline high. Sweaty and breathless they are still feeling like gods, worshipped by thousands of people whose roar is still ringing in their ears and their hearts are still beating to the rhythm of their songs.

Marty's fingertips tingle pleasantly after pressing down strings when he follows his bandmates backstage. He's hot and tired but he's so goddamn happy he wants to jump and run. They had a blast during the show, their fans went wild singing the lyrics at the top of their lungs and louder. 

He looks around searching for Nick when someone jumps on his back laughing loudly in his ear. Marty's legs give out under him and they topple down. Their two Daves stop bickering and look back at the ruckus. Marty is sprawled on the ground and is trying and failing at throwing Nick off of him. They are both laughing almost hysterically from no other reason than the joy and the lingering adrenaline still coursing in their systems. 

"What the hell are you two doing?" Dave asks puzzled but amused nonetheless. Junior is snickering at them both. Marty cannot answer right away because Nick steals his breath with his ongoing assault. 

"Like children." Junior pipes in, amazed. Dave claps his hands to catch their attention and when it does nothing, he finally steps between them and grabs them by the scruffs of their necks to haul their asses upright. 

"You can tumble together all you want back at the hotel" he declares shaking Nick a bit, he peers into their eyes and is met with two pairs of bottomless dark pits, now glimmering playfully. Dave squints and sneers at them which brings out another bout of laughter. 

"Ewww, dude!" Nick wrinkles his nose, still laughing and Marty’s own laugh stutters in his throat.

David comes behind Marty and pushes him slightly onwards, he moves on autopilot. The smile still stretches his face but it’s gone from his eyes for now.

In the hotel Marty beelines towards his own room, laughing off any concerns and excusing himself under the guise of tiredness. Nick looks at him concerned and confused by the sudden shift in mood. Marty peers in the lost eyes of his drummer and smiles fondly. He comes up quickly towards Nick and smacks him on the back. The smack echoes through the hall and Nick yelps surprised.

"Maybe you, monsters, can go on and on after the show but I need my beauty sleep." He laughs and steps back from frowning Dave. David giggles and waves him goodnight. Nick still looks lost but allows him to hide in the hotel room.

Marty exhales loudly when the door closes behind him. The darkness is pressing at him making him feel small and helpless. The happiness is gone, chased away by one insignificant word. Marty closes his eyes and tries to lift the heaviness that settled over his heart. He's angry at himself for being so easily affected by simple goofing around.

He goes and flips the light switch on, the brightness blinds him for a second but Marty starts towards the bathroom. The weariness from the show is starting to weigh him down and he hopes a long hot shower will, not only help him relax, but also will cheer him up a bit. Small things are the easiest to seek when sadness knocks at one’s heart. 

Tomorrow they are leaving for another city and additionally Marty wants to make the most of the big bathroom before he'll step into their bus. He strips down on his way to the bathroom, scrambles into the shower cabin and sets the temperature of the water as high as he can stand without fainting.

Marty lets the water steadily beat down onto his tense shoulders and shuts down any thoughts whatsoever. His main goal is to relax, nothing more. He doesn’t want to overthink or brood or whatnot. He focuses on the hum of water and feels his muscles slowly relax. He grabs the provided body wash and his own sponge and scrubs himself almost raw with the prickly side.

When Marty steps out from the shower his skin is hot and pink and his mind is blessedly empty. He slips into a clean pair of boxer briefs and throws himself onto the bed. He bounces a few times and hides his face in the pillow. The sleep welcomes him in her warm embrace almost immediately. 

The next morning Marty wakes up with a start, confused as to where he even is, to a pounding at his door.

“Wakey, wakey, princess!” Nick shouts through them, bangs once more and retreats laughing. Marty flops down onto the pillow and groans too sleepy to join the cohort of the living just yet. He waits a few minutes for the sleepy fog to clear in his mind and, finally, heaves himself from the bed to starts collecting his belongings, which managed to crawl out of his travel bag and spread themselves through the whole room.

Once packed, he grabs a pair of knee-long pants, a comfy t-shirt, and heads out towards their bus with his bag slung over his shoulder. He can hear the redhead already sassing the living daylights out of David and he wonders how his band can be so lively so early. He searches for Nick but he’s nowhere outside. Marty waves towards Daves in lieu of greeting and smothers down a yawn. In the corner of his eye he can see David doing the same and then Dave not even bothering to hide his yawn.

Marty finds Nick already on the bus, spread over the relatively comfy sofa/seats. Marty still isn’t sure how to call those. The drummer smiles at him brilliantly, but when his gaze slides down the smile falls down a bit. Marty doesn’t have time to react before Nick is moving. 

“Oh shit, sorry man!” Nick stretches on his perch, worry creasing his brows, and pats Marty's knee surprisingly gently. Marty blinks confused at first but then it all clicks in his brain. Their yesterday's tousling awarded Marty with a pretty impressive bruise under his knee. 

He looks at Nick who's worry is clearly blown out of proportions and feels the flutter of wings deep in his belly. Marty flushes and laughs staggering back to distract himself from the fuzzy feeling blooming in his heart.

“Nah, it’s all good” He tousles his own hair. Nick huffs and looks up at Marty.

“I’ll buy you a beer when we stop next, sounds good?” He asks and the butterflies dance in Marty’s stomach delighted. The guitarist smiles and nods, dizzy. It all feels like a rollercoaster, but Marty cannot see when are ups and downs, turns and twists. A blind rollercoaster controlled by a painfully oblivious but lovely nonetheless driver. Marty turns to the mini-fridge to hide to dopey smile stretching his face and peers in to find two cans of Cola. He chucks one of them at Nick who manages to catch the unexpected offering.

“Though, I’m not sure one beer will cover all the damages” Marty swings lightly his bruised leg and Nick grins at him from over his can.

“Bargaining over my good heart! Look at him!” The butterflies dance to the rhythm of their laughter.

As unexpected as it is, Marty can’t imagine getting off this rollercoaster of emotions till he sees the end. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realised how angsty the description is compared to an overdramatic Marty in the actual chapter XDDD


	3. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The promised beers bring back hope and Marty decides to take things into his own hands.

They are laughing, the roar of music almost drowns out their voices and to hear anything they have to scream into each other’s ears. The lights are dimmed, aside from some flashy beams going on and off at random intervals making him go crosseyed. All the same, Marty still can clearly see Nick happily basking in the attention and flirting of some girl they stumbled upon. He wishes he could tune them out. Or drink himself into oblivion or,  _ goddamit,  _ simply enjoy himself like a normal human being, not a useless damsel withering from unrequited love. He grimaces at the comparison.

Marty grips his drink and tries to make his laugh as sincere as it is possible, at the joke he barely heard. The girl pressing herself to his side is warm and soft. Pliant and loose after few drinks but still coherent enough to see that her flirting does nothing to him. He smiles apologetically at her frowning face as she straightens herself.

She huffs and finishes her own drink then stands up and motions to her friend. Marty feels surprisingly bad but he supposes the girl will find someone else that night. 

‘I’m going to the bathroom!’ She hollers and waits for the other girl to follow her, who reluctantly stands up. She pats Nick’s shoulder, smiles and says something into his ear, the drummer beams at her and makes a move like if he was dipping a hat. A rugged gentleman, Marty snorts at the imagery.

Nick smiles at him broadly and tips his beer glass in his direction. Marty reciprocates the gesture and takes a few sips. 

He looks around to try his luck at finding somebody who will catch his gaze. The bar is lit poorly enough he can play a guessing game with the people he sees. Is that a nicely shaped bum or a deceitful game of lights? He can never be sure. His gaze strays once again towards Nick and Marty watches, against his better judgment, as Nick strikes a conversation with another woman who plonked down in the place of the previous blonde. They laugh about something Marty didn’t catch and she stands up excusing herself, all smiles and lingering gazes. She saunters towards the center of the room and Nick follows her every move until the mass of bodies swallows her frame.

Marty looks into the remnants of his drink and takes the last mouthful, he looks around and sees their previous partners coming back. Nick’s blonde sits down right next to him and picks up on the interrupted conversation, her friend moves towards somebody else. Marty looks around again to scout out the people in the nearest vicinity. But ends up ordering another beer. 

He’s halfway through the glass when a girl plonks down next to him and orders herself a drink.

‘Nice hair!’ She shouts through the music and Marty flips his mane, flattered. The girl laughs at that. Marty turns towards her, dead-set on at least having some simple fun. He can see with the corner of his eye that Nick and his catch ventured into the room to dance. He looks back at the girl and catches her following his gaze. When she looks back at him Marty thinks he sees sympathy and understanding in her gaze and it makes his skin crawl. He babbles about the first thing that came to his mind to divert their attention from the uncomfortable topic. 

They chat about nothing, they dance and, to Marty’s utter surprise, they, basically, have fun. At some point, Nick separates from his girl and stumbles between them as happy as a clam. He wiggles to the beat with them and finally goes back to the bar to hydrate himself. Marty looks at his zig-zaggy stride and checks his watch suddenly remembering they will have to survive another half a day on the small bus and then give their 1000% at the concert. 

To his horror, the watch blinks 3:27 at him. Marty cringes, already imagining Dave’s look of doom when they’ll stumble back.

‘Too long after your police hour?’ The girl laughs in his ear and Marty nods amused by the choice of words. 

‘I’m going to fetch my friend and head back. I had fun.’ He winks at her and heads towards the bar, searching for Nick. He locates him a bit further to the left of their previous position looking at something intently. Marty almost shouts to catch his attention but stops mid-inhale.

He blinks and takes a second look.

Then a third.

Then hope rears its half-dead head from the depths of his being and wags its tail, but also whines confused as hell.

Marty takes a fourth look just to be sure. But the image is still there.

Nick is ogling a dude. An honest to god dude. Marty tries to remember how many drinks Nick had and he comes up blank. Still, the drummer looks sober enough to be able to distinguish a nicely muscled, sharp-jawed dude from a chick. 

Marty looks at Nick and searches his face for any clues. There is confusion but also longing, the same longing Marty sees every day in the mirror. 

Suddenly, the music loud enough to rattle bones goes silent. The room stills and Marty feels disconnected from his own body. He tries to murder his hope with cold blood but the damn thing, like a cockroach, ignores his attempts at silencing it for ages. Somebody bumps into him and brings Marty back from his stupor. He shakes his head like a wet dog and strides towards Nick.

‘We hafta head back!’ He pats him on the shoulder and shouts into his ear. Nick startles and almost smashes his head into Marty’s nose. 

‘Why?’ He whines, and Marty pats his shoulder a few more times.

‘Our general will rip us a new one if we won’t appear presentable later today.’ Nick cringes but shuffles up and towards the exit door. The sharp air sobers them up a little and chases the longing from Nick’s features. Marty risks a limb and puts his arm around Nick under the guise of steadying him. The drummer puts his weight on him and they both stagger walking in a zigzag for a while before Marty regains his sense of balance. Nick snickers and Marty intentionally steps on his foot. 

Nick’s body is warm and trusting in his arms and Marty once again sees, in his mind, the yearning in those dark eyes. Hope blooms in his chest and helps make up his mind. The yearning, the fear of being rejected, the pining, and hankering after his friend. Marty is tired of this but he was too afraid of changing the status quo. 

Until now. 

Marty looks up at the dark sky, he can hear Nick chatting about something not bothered one bit by the silence of his friend. He takes a deep breath, the cold air tickles the back of his throat and lets the hope push aside his fears. There’s no use of pining and hoping without taking any action. It will only bring him heartache and nothing more. Marty looks at Nick, now happy and carefree walking alongside him, still pressing himself into his body, making them walk from one side of the pavement to the other.

Marty decides to bite the bullet and try to woo Nick, the look of confused longing flashes once again in his memory. However it will end, whatever the future will bring. Marty will at least try to address his feelings at some point. 

Nick headbutts him feeling ignored and Marty sputters feigning offense by the attack. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, I have to stop putting off stuff for the very last minute, because it always backfires.  
Also, I think I'm going down with cold or sth similar. Idk. My throat hurts and I may have a slight fever, good thing I can stay home for three days x'D  
A super short chapter to get back to writing.


	4. Caution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Talk is finally going to happen! How will it go? Will Nick run away screaming? Marty can only hope for Nick to listen to him.

The hope, once given life, is hard to kill and it worms itself deep into his heart to make him feel fuzzy and happy despite all the stress and doubt. Doubt that is still there, curled around his ribcage and flicking its tongue in a search of anything that could feed it. 

Marty chews the plastic straw and looks out of the window of their bus. The world around is bleak and gray. There is no chance for the scenery to miraculously give him any solutions. Marty feels the straw getting stuck between his teeth and he cringes at the feeling.

Now he cannot stop searching for clues in every of Nick’s gestures. _ Is he seeking his company? Is he looking at him with appreciation? Do his eyes linger on him? _He feels like a schoolgirl and Marty wants to just walk up to Nick and ask him straight away if he wants to give him a chance but he also knows how disastrous it might be. 

Up until that night, Marty thought he was beyond any hope, now he has some scraps of evidence it may not be the case but even so, even if he was right at reading this damned longing look, Marty fears Nick is scared of those feelings. Too scared and too confused to really acknowledge them, not to mention act on them. Marty fears Nick would flee at the slightest allusion he is interested in his persona. And that is if the longing look wasn’t just a trick of the light and booze.

_ Fuck. _

He groans and shakes himself from his musings, they lead to nowhere and just make him angry with the whole situation. Marty looks towards his band to check if anybody lost a limb when he was spacing out. 

They are playing some derivation of poker and Dave is visibly and mercilessly crushing them with an almost maniacal gleam in his eyes. Junior looks at peace with losing but Nick is clearly unhappy. Marty wisely opted to pass up on the game, knowing very well he would be destroyed like a measly bug and then got angry because he is a sore loser. What is worse, he’d have to look at Dave’s smug face for far too long. Better to watch the massacre than take part in it. 

‘We should’ve played for prizes’ Dave concludes and then shows his cards. Junior sags defeated and Nick throws his own cards on the table and storms off the few steps towards their tiny fridge. His face is scrunched up and Marty wants to grab and kiss him, to smooth out the furrowed brows and make him laugh. 

‘Bring the winner a beer!’ Dave smiles widely like a cat that got the fattest canary. Nick swears up a storm and whangs the bottle in front of him. Junior steps out of the danger zone and plonks in front of Marty, watching the two squabbling idiots. 

Marty finds himself smiling at the antics of his friends. Doubt scents its moment and rears its ugly head through the fuzziness of hope. Marty, above all else, wants to avoid unnecessary friction between them, so he has to come up with a better plan than walking up to Nick and asking him if he wants to go on a date and try his luck with Marty or at least bang and then forget about it. He looks at Junior in silent hope for some inspiration to come. Without him, they’d probably be engulfed by chaos, so maybe the more Marty stares at him the quicker the inspiration will come. Junior notices him and stares back.

‘How do you subtly ask somebody if they are interested in you?’ He blurs out and makes Junior’s eyes widen a fraction in surprise. He answers before Marty can realize he has lost his mind.

‘If you’re older than ten: you ask them, if not: you bully them.’ Junior deadpans and Marty almost impales his soft palate with the mangled staw. Before he can think better of it, Marty plunges head-on.

‘And if you’re older than ten but have to be sneaky?’ 

‘You throw a balled-up paper with the scribbled question: “Do you like me?” and two answers to choose from: “yes” and “absolutely”.’ Marty snorts along with chuckling David. 

‘It worked for me! At fifteen I managed to score a lovely date!’ They laugh this time and reminisce a bit more about their teenage awkwardness. That’s when it hits Marty full force. How ridiculous he acts, how immature, how useless. He’s trying to find any excuse not to face Nick. The fear is real, he’s genuinely scared of fucking up the good atmosphere in the band and, above all else, the friendly relationship with Nick but, goddamit, they are adults! He looks at David and grins widely, he feels like a light shone down on him and cleared his vision and the ridiculously mundane moment of his epiphany amuses him to no end. 

‘What would I do without you?’ He remarks to the palpable confusion of David. 

‘What?’ 

Marty pats him on the shoulder and walks to their driver to ask when they will stop next. In his peripheral vision, he can see David checking his can of Coke for any dubious substances. The idea that pops into his mind is simple: when they stop he will take Nick for a walk, somewhere where they will be able to talk in peace. Not about banging, not yet but Marty at least will see if Nick is open enough for the real talk. 

It turns out they will be stopping in few hours so Marty goes back and decides to play the next round. He sits so close to Nick that their knees bump into each other. Instead of moving away Nick, after a few minutes, plasters himself to Marty’s side. The next time Dave wins Marty starts shaking him, too angry at still winning Dave to sit still, but too far away from the redhead to throttle him. The urge to dip down and smooch Nick blooms in his chest, even if holding onto his cards is not the easiest when Nick is pulling at his arm.

Nick doesn’t move away while they play round after round.

‘Suck it!’ Nick roars and jumps up from his seat excited to win at least one deal. When he comes down instead of landing on the sofa he half-lands on Marty’s lap. Dave is muttering and checking the cards to see if it was an actual win and Marty is sure that Nick sat for a few seconds too long on his leg, before sliding down, still comfortably close. He peers at his friend and, _ holy shit_, Nick seems to lean onto him with a mix of shyness and curiosity on his face. Marty wonders if he was blowing the whole problem out of proportions the whole time. 

He wraps his arm around Nick and hugs him to his side, tousling his hair at the same time. Nick leans into him and Marty laughs into the frizzy hair. The dread wrapped around his lungs loosens its grip and Marty feels safer to assume that Nick does actually seek his touch. 

They manage to play around five deals before they get bored, thankfully their driver announces they will be stopping soon, so all of them decide to get dressed in more presentable clothing than ratty t-shirts and tracksuits, they still have around a day or two in the bus before they can finally get into a hotel, so a pit-stop, for now, the only chance to stretch their legs and get some fresh air. Marty immediately asks Nick if he wants to check the city together.

‘Sure, I heard there’s a nice record store somewhere around so we can go and search for it.’ Marty nods and glances at Daves if they heard them. Thankfully, they seem to have missed it and Marty grins widely at the chance to spend some time alone with Nick. 

They have to park a good deal away from the city center, but nobody complains. What is more, they are almost happy to walk for a bit after being cooped up in a small bus for so long. It doesn’t take long for their ways to park and Marty prepares himself internally to breach the topic of his crush and what they can possibly do with it. Ignore or try their luck together. Marty has a hunch that the actual relationship talk will have to happen a bit later. 

‘So, where is the shop?’ He asks looking around. A small town similar to every other small town. 

‘I don’t know, somewhere in the center. We will have to ask around.’ Nick shrugs and searches the few people mingling around to see if anyone looks approachable. 

It takes them over an hour to finally get to the shop. None of them are good with directions, but after forgetting the directions given by people, mixing the directions up, walking into the wrong streets and getting distracted by nothing and everything they finally find an illuminated record store. Marty can feel his eyes glittering at the sight of all the records. He looks at Nick and smiles when he sees the same expression. He ignores the urge to smooch him, just steps into the store filled with some tune. It takes him a moment to realize its Nirvana. 

They don't talk much while sorting through the vinyls, aside from showing one another certain albums or making fun of others. The shop keeper looks at them with wide eyes but he stays put, although Marty can see him all but vibrating on the spot. He makes a mental note to be super friendly to the kid when checking out.

'Queen! don't have this album yet' Nick looks at the envelope and probably tries to estimate if it'll survive the tour. Marty peers over his shoulder.

'Ya gonna buy it?' Marty asks and can't help himself from grinning widely as an idea pops into his mind. Nick looks at him with suspicion.

'Maybe, ya volunteering to buy it for me?' he asks and Marty's grin widens. Nick seems to start doubting his mental state.

'Nothing for free, my dude' he says, already reaching for the album and plucking it from Nick’s fingers. 

‘Funny thing, I didn’t know you liked Queen’ He starts, glancing sideways at Nick. The cashier looks like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin and then vibrate into the next dimension. Marty steps back and grabs one of their own albums. The kid looks a bit confused before Marty asks him for a pen and plants a huge autograph on the envelope Nick follows suit and scribbles his own. The kid cannot stop himself any longer and they have a chat about music and fans and the likes. They exit the shop followed by a happy rambling of the boy.

‘So, nothing for free’ Marty repeats himself and looks at Nick who squints at him confused. ‘My price for the album is an honest talk’ he continues, they reach a cafe and enter, this time there’s no starstruck eyes following them. They order coffee and sit down.

‘An honest talk, about us, about me and about you.’ Marty says looking into Nick’s eyes. He looks uncomfortable but Marty needs to finish what he started.

‘Is that alright with you?’ He asks and hopes for the affirmative. Nick nods and Marty takes a long breath.

‘It’s not an easy talk, I know, but I hope that whatever will come out of it we can still be friends at least.’ He can see Nick pursuing his lips. 

‘Okay’ Nick nods and Marty closes his eyes for a second before he starts.

‘Do you know what is bisexuality?’ He decides to make some things clear at first, Nick scrunches up his nose. 

‘When you like both dicks and vags.’ Marty nods at this.

‘Yup, and what would you say if I told you I am bi?’ Nick looks around startled by the question.

‘Good for you?’ he asks and Marty nods again, he stops himself from saying “good boy”. There is a certain gleam in Nick’s eyes as he’s peering at Marty curiously.

‘And what if I told you I like you?’ Marty can hear his heart hammering in his ears. All his muscles tighten and he sips his coffee to moisten his dried throat. Nick looks startled like a doe in front of a truck. He shifts on the chair and tousels his hair. Marty lets him mull over this question. 

‘Like in a platonic way?’ Nick finally asks.

‘Romantic’ Marty clears up and Nick shifts again. His gaze is jumping all over the place and Marty fears he will flee any moment now.

‘How do you know it’s romantic?’

‘I want to make you happy, I want to spend time with you’ Marty avoids mentioning any physical desires, for now. He doesn’t want to make Nick even more uncomfortable. They sit in awkward silence, the coffee is getting cold and the murmur of people around them is surprisingly comforting. Noone seems to give a damn about their silent conversation.

‘And how should I react?’ Nick asks at last, he sounds lost and, Marty could bet his right leg, desperate. Despite all that Marty is incredibly happy Nick is still talking to him. It's a good sign.

‘How do you feel about it?’

Nick falls silent again. 

‘Lost’ He finally mutters. Marty nods at that. He can work with “lost”.

‘Disgusted? Scared? Do you want this conversation to end? Do you want some time to think about it?’ Mary asks, he knows it’s a barrage of questions but what Nick has to do is to think about it carefully. Marty wants him to think about it, _ needs _him to do so.

‘Goddammit, I don’t know! I’m not disgusted but I should be! You are a _dude_! My friend! My bandmate!’ Nick shakes his head and leans backwards from the table. Marty tries to hide his wince.

‘But you are not, it’s good, Nick. It is good’ he soothes. Nick shakes his head again, he bites his lip and looks to the side. Marty wants to grab his hand but now would be the worst time to do so. He sits in silence.

‘I-I need to think about it’ Nick finally says. ‘Fuck me - no! - do not fuck me! I mean, I need some time to digest it. Goddammit, who would have known.’ Nick rambles on, he looks stunned but not ready to run away and hide in a cave anymore. Marty counts it as a win.

‘No fucking unless you state otherwise’ he tries to joke and miraculously it startles a laugh from Nick. After that, they manage to talk for a bit but it’s awkward and the conversation feels forced. Marty decides to act like a man.

‘Do you want me to leave you alone for a bit?’ he asks, despite it coming from his own lips it sounds scary, and Marty wonders if he should have chosen a different moment. Maybe wait till they can check into a hotel before rushing the conversation so much. It’s too late for such thinking but he cannot stop himself. Suddenly he’s painfully aware that they will have to spend at least another day on the bus.

Nick exhales. ‘Yeah, sorry. It’s not that I don’t want to look at you anymore, but I really do need a minute to wrap my head around that bomb of an info’ Nick tries to sound light. Marty nods and stands up. 

‘Okay, sorry for dumping it on to you but I figured it would be better to have this conversation than me swooning in the background.’ Marty tries to explain himself but Nick waves his hand.

‘Ok, I get it. Just let me think okay? How to go about it now.’ Marty nods and finally walks out of the cafe. 

The trek back to the bus alone with his thoughts makes him lightheaded. On one hand, he feels incredibly relieved he got this off of his chest, Nick looked overwhelmed but him promising to think about the situation offered the tiniest bit of hope. Marty heard about gaydar, and as much as he always laughed at the idea now he starts considering that maybe, _ maybe _there is some truth in it. He has zero concrete evidence, but there is something telling him that Nick may actually consider the unspoken offer of a relationship. On the other, he traditionally worries he blew up the whole good relationship with Nick.

‘Well, now I can only wait’ he mutters to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shame on me! It took so long to write. I made the mistake of posting this story with a vague idea of how it will unravel and now I'm paying for it. Also, romances are definitely not my forte as you can see.  
I wrote bits and pieces of this chapter in two different notebooks and two different files trying to figure out where to go with the plot. Finally, I decided to just go with the flow and hope for the best (which is my regular way of writing basically everything)


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